


Finding My Way Home

by sherlockpond



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Bucky wears guyliner, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Fluff, Frottage, Guyliner, Homelessness, I forgot how to tag, Kissing, Love, M/M, Memory Loss, Men Crying, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Spoilers, and he wears it well, bedroom shenanigans, come on guys, cuteness, winter soldier spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 10:32:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1425292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockpond/pseuds/sherlockpond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky finds his way home after the Winter Soldier mess, and Steve tries to bring normality back into their lives.<br/>But there's something Steve keeps leaving out when Bucky asks about their past, because when he dreams he can remember the blonde mans touch. And he swears Steve's avoiding the subject.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding My Way Home

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I've taken a break from my other fic and I've written this to speed up my productivity.  
> I've spent today watching "Political Animals" featuring the beautiful Sebastian Stan who portrays, rather flawlessly, a troubled and homosexual ex-president's son. Give it a watch, it's fab!
> 
> As ever, I'm no American, so cringe at my interpretation and try to give it a chance. I've checked through it all, all mistakes are my own and as I wrote this at about midnight last night, I can only apologise for the blunders- it was written on my iPhone. (Oh and if there are any die-hard Marvel fans can someone let me know when Bucky's D.O.B is? I had to improvise)
> 
> I don't own shit of Marvel, I can only hope I get to act in one of their movies one day!

The next time Steve sees Bucky, it's in a shopping centre. He only catches a glimpse of his face, it seems to keep up appearances Bucky has tied his hair up to try to make sure he's unrecognisable. 

But Steve would know that face anywhere. 

Someone walks in front of Bucky and with that he's gone, disappeared into the air like a spectre haunted by his past. 

It takes three weeks for Bucky to run out of places to crash. Steve finds him outside his apartment; clothes tattered for some reason and his hair in tangles and knots. It looks like he hasn't eaten in days and his eyes are watering in the mid-December air. 

 

"What the fuck took you so long? Don't ya ever come out of your flat?" Bucky mutters, there's a hint of the old Bucky in his voice.

 

Steve says nothing, too surprised to see his best friend- or what's left of him.

 

It's a slow transition- Steve invites Bucky in and they talk for a while, they talk about how he'd manage to last so long alone until eventually Bucky passes out on the sofa with a mixture of exhaustion and relief.

 

Steve looks at the sleeping Bucky and notices small details. How the harshness of his features are dulled by the softness of sleep; the way that Bucky sleeps is exactly the same as it was in the 30's, on his right with one arm under his head. Not his metal arm, his flesh one.

 

After that Steve finds it difficult to hide how they were in the thirties. There are times when Steve just wants to collect what's left of Bucky in his arms and hug him until he remembers everything- so far Bucky only has been remembering snap shots, small things, not their relationship, the secrets whispered to each other under the scratchy sheets, and how they used to know each other's bodies off by heart.

 

Steve closes his eyes in exasperation and lets out a long breath. In all the harlem of the 21st century, what Steve needs is someone from his past to help remind him what he's got left. And Bucky is all he has left.

 

After putting a duvet over Bucky, Steve makes his way to bed, to say he has a restless night is an understatement, he has to keep getting up to check Bucky is still there, still physical, not a hallucination. At some point in the early hours in the morning, Steve finally manages to get some sleep and at about half six he feels an arm around his waist. When he realises that it's not any risk, he relaxes into it, hoping that this is Bucky, his Bucky, and that his memories had come back.

 

They don't talk about it the next day.

 

It hurts. If Steve's honest, it really feels like he's had his heart ripped out. When Steve had woken the sheets next to him were cold and he'd found Bucky staring into a cold cup of coffee, Bucky had always preferred coffee, at least there was that. 

 

"Tell me more," Bucky says, Steve jumps as he realises that you can't hide from an ex-Soviet spy "about him... about me; start at the beginning...,"  

 

Steve makes them both a hot drink and sits down opposite his best friend.

 

"You were born on the 2nd of September 1917; your mother and father were both dead by the time you were 2, that's how we know each other... We ended up at the same orphanage...," 

 

He takes them through every memory he remembers, small ones, big ones. He leaves out the fact that they were lovers/ partners, he doesn't want to scare Bucky off, not when he's learning about his life for the first time.

 

Bucky fills in the gaps between his fall and the present, he tells Steve his short memories of the Red Room. The unimaginable pain and hatred of it all, the way Bucky never put up a fight because he couldn't remember what it was like to have his own mind, his own free will. They both cry a little, Steve cries at Bucky when he goes into detail of how they experimented on him. Bucky cries when Steve tells him of forgotten days and summer evenings of walking around Brooklyn. The air feels thick and the atmosphere of the room suddenly changes when Bucky's eyes light up at one point and he asks Steve a question. 

 

"There's something else," he murmurs, dark hair spilling across his face as he looks down at the breakfast island "something you're not telling me, I have memories, Steve, I swear they're memories, not dream, I haven’t dreamt in 70 years,"

 

There was a spark of hope in Steve's chest. 

 

"What memories?" He whispers, they're so close to each other, so close all it would take would be a nudge.

 

Bucky says nothing but closes that insignificant gap between them and pushes their lips together. Steve tries to put his fingers in Bucky's hair but it's matted and greasy so he settles for the nape of his neck and they break apart for a few seconds so they can manoeuvre around the table separating them.

 

They fall into an instant rhythm and end up on the couch, Bucky on top if Steve, breaking for breath every now and again, only to reconnect their lips and continue. And suddenly it feels like no time at all has passed, and Steve wants to tell Bucky all of the things he missed out because of his dignity. He feels foolish, they could have had last night like this if Steve had just been a man and accepted the past. But now there's nowhere Steve would rather be, he loves the weight of Bucky on top of him and way that he shifts when his scraggly trousers get too tight around his crotch and it brushes just -there- which makes Steve's eyes roll into the back of his head.

 

They spend the rest of the day constantly touching, they watch old films and Steve finds some clothes for Bucky to wear. Even when Steve goes to make them both a sandwich it isn't long before he feels a flesh arm and a metal one wind around his waist. He doesn't quite know how much Bucky remembers, but with all of this physical touching, it must be affirming to have someone to hold.

 

Steve doesn't want to force Bucky into bed so for the first few days he says nothing and they just share a bed. Relearn each other in innocent ways and never really touch each other below the belt. It feels like there'll be a time and a place for all of that eventually. 

 

As the days turn into weeks Steve notices a lot less of the Winter Soldier and more of the Bucky he knows. His hair is cut to the same style as it had been before the war, and they both went and trawled through some shops to find Bucky some new clothes, what surprised Steve was Bucky's insistence on keeping some of the black make-up he had worn as The Winter Soldier. Only the eye liner managed to stick and to be honest Steve couldn't see it as a bad thing. Bucky looks pretty damn good with some of the make-up from the dame section.

* * *

 

 

**_"C'mon! I look hot, right?" Bucky had taunted him as he learnt how to do it so it made his blue eyes appear even more prominent. He strutted over to Steve in his skinny jeans and a grey shirt, thick coat and red scarf, turned his head to the side to slide their lips together briefly._ **

**_Steve was left a little breathless and forgot where he was, Bucky just smiled hugely and raised his eyebrows._ **

**_“Whaddid I say?” he leered, before pushing a hand through his hair and sauntered off down the corridor “still got it!”_ **

**__ **

 

 

* * *

 

After a while Bucky started to initiate touching more and more. His memory was still a little muggy around the edges and he still woke having nightmares and occasionally Steve woke to him pressing a knife to his neck after a relapse back into his previous Russian ways, but once Bucky had calmed down he soon realised that he was home and safe with Steve. 

 

But now Bucky's hands would wonder down and fiddle with the strings of pyjama bottoms. When they lie together Bucky is behind Steve and wondering hands are getting harder and harder to bat away as Steve's self-restraint grew weaker and weaker.

 

Eventually Steve sits Bucky down to talk it through, they speak about how they’re both adults and even though Bucky doesn’t remember their old sex life, he does show a certain  enthusiasm to try and make new memories this time round.

 

Soon they’re both pulling at each other’s clothes and their lips are inseparable, both keep making low moans and quiet gasps.

“I’ve been wantin’ to do this since I crept into your bed,” Bucky groans, pushing Steve into the bedroom “I wasn’t sure if you were going to kick me out after that. That’s why I never mentioned it,”

“Why didn’t you just do it, Buck? I’ve been hangin’ on by a thread, I wasn’t sure if I was taking advantage of you if I did something,” Steve breathed as he pulled away to catch his breath, pulling his t-shirt over his head “I was worried you’d feel threatened, I wasn’t sure if you were you,”

“I’m always myself when I’m with you, Stevie,” Bucky replied, joining Steve by unbuttoning his shirt quickly. Steve reached down to his belt and Bucky swatted away his hand.

“Mine,” he growled, reaching down and grabbing Steve’s belt with his metal arm and feeling up Steve’s crotch with the other. Steve let out a loud whine, Bucky just smiled broadly.

“God, Stevie, you’re beautiful,”

Steve’s eyes hollowed for a second and his arousal dropped a little.

Bucky realised immediately, picking Steve’s chin up with his thumb he met with the blonde man’s eyes.

“Hey. What did I say wrong?”

“That’s not the kind of word that fits a guy, Buck,” Steve said slowly.

Bucky shook his head quickly and put his hands either side of Steve’s face.

“You _are_ beautiful, Stevie,” Bucky said, placing a closed kiss on his lips “and handsome,” another kiss on his forehead “and ridiculous,” Steve smiled as Bucky kissed his nose “and _hot,”_ Bucky added as he finally pushed their lips together properly.

XXXXXX

Once they’re both finished for the night, they fall into the cold sheets, naked, their burning skin heating the material and their hair damp with sweat.

After they’ve cleaned up, Bucky leans over to Steve and pulls his into a loose kiss, their lips brushing and their eyes sliding shut with contentment.

“You wore me out, Stevie. Ain’t no girl I can remember ever doing that,” Bucky says before pushing his head into Steve’s neck and kissing his collarbone, making Steve’s breath hitch more than it was already.

“Did it help trigger any memories?” he asks, pulling Bucky into his arms.

“Not really,” Bucky replies, sleep overtaking him, the warmth of their bodies making it difficult to keep a clear head “It’s okay, I don’t really mind that much, and I like making new memories with you. Maybe I’ll remember one day, the things you remember and I don’t. But as long as the sex is as hot as that, Rogers, I’m stickin’ around,”

Steve laughs and presses a kiss into Bucky’s hair “Jeez, Buck, I got it bad for you,”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, doll,”

Fin

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I applaud you for getting to the end.
> 
> Mind leaving kudos/comments? It'd make my day!
> 
> Gimme a look on Tumblr:
> 
> sherlockpond.tumblr.com


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